


A Simple Favor

by Snugglebuttkitten



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes of Loving You [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Fake Marriage, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Luka Couffaine Loves Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marriage Proposal, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29282619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snugglebuttkitten/pseuds/Snugglebuttkitten
Summary: “It… well it’s more of a question,” she hedged, shifting nervously and briefly squeezing her eyes shut before opening them and meeting his gaze once more. “I need you to do me a favor.”“You know I’ll help you in any way that I can, Mari,” Luka’s voice rang with conviction at his words. And he meant them, with every fiber of his being. He would do anything for Marinette. That still didn’t keep him from being caught completely off guard by the next words that came out of her mouth.“I need you to marry me.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: A Thousand Lifetimes of Loving You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150445
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloody_no_Kissu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_no_Kissu/gifts).



> Thank you, Bloody, for this marvelous idea ;)

Princess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, of the Cheng Dynasty, had admittedly done a lot of stupid things in her life before. From minor acts of stupidity such as tripping on air every chance she got, to much bigger ones. Such as teaming up with Princess Chloe Bourgeois, of all people, to try and sabotage Lady Kagami Tsurugi at the last movie premiere they had attended. Yeah, stupidity and Marinette _kind of_ went hand and hand, if she was being completely honest. But this… this most certainly took the cake. This wasn’t just plain stupid. This was _catastrophically_ stupid. This was worse than **create-a-fantasty-family-complete-with-three-kids-and-a-pet-hamster-with-a-guy-she-isn’t-even-dating** stupid. This was worse than **stealing-said-guys-phone-to-delete-a-voicemail-she-had-accidentally-left-on-there** stupid. This was so _beyond_ stupid that she wasn’t even sure it could be classified as _merely_ stupid anymore. It was a whole other planet of stupid.

Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, Marinette fidgeted with the hem of her knee length, A line dress as her bluebell gaze bounced nervously from the dumbfounded looks on her parents faces, to the outraged look on King Gabriel Agreste’s face, and finally to the look on Adrien’s face which was some odd mix of confusion, relief, and perhaps the smallest hint of disappointment. But that didn’t make sense. Why would Adrien be disappointed after what she had just idiotically announced to the whole room? It meant that he was free, no longer forced into an arranged marriage with a girl he had made perfectly clear was _just a friend_. And her? Well, she was screwed. Plain and simple. Gabriel Agreste opened his mouth, no doubt to refute her claims that she was well and truly taken, but Marinette’s lady-in-waiting somehow managed to sweep in and save the day.

“Marinette? Your _fiancee_ is waiting in the blue room. He says it's urgent,” Tikki said, blue eyes narrowed meaningfully towards the raven-haired nineteen year old. Marinette nodded abruptly and dipped into an awkward and hasty curtsy.

“I am so terribly sorry to cut this short and I am certain we can continue this conversation over dinner but I must take my leave. Sosorrygottagobye!” She squeaked out, the last words coming out in a garbled rush as she fled the room before anyone could ask questions. The door to the throne room clicked shut behind her and she sagged back against it with a groan, her knees suddenly far too weak to hold her weight. Tikki shook her head and crossed her arms, lips pulled down into a disapproving frown.

“They’re gonna find out,” she pointed out.

“They’re not gonna find out. They _can’t_ find out, Tikki,” Marinette whined, eyes burning with the threat of tears as she fixed her gaze pleadingly at the older girl who had stood by her side since she was just a wee tot. Tikki’s mother had been a scullery maid, and when she got sick and died, Marinette’s parents had kept Tikki on at the palace first as a playmate to their young daughter, then as an occasional babysitter, and eventually as her Lady-in-waiting. She was one of Marinette’s closest friends and confidantes.

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” Tikki finally threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m not a miracle worker, Marinette. It’s not like I’m your Fairy Godmother. I can’t go _poof_ and make your lie a reality.”

“No, but you could tell me where he is?” Marinette jutted her lower lip out and widened her eyes, pouting imploringly at her lady-in-waiting as the redhead glared back at her in annoyance. She only lasted about thirty seconds before her shoulders sagged and she rolled her eyes heavenward with an irritated huff.

“I already told you. He’s in the blue room,” she growled. Marinette squealed quietly and threw her arms around her redheaded companion, and it only took a few seconds for Tikki’s rigid posture to slacken and for her to return the embrace. After a moment, Marinette stepped back and shot her a nervous and hopeful smile.

“Well, wish me luck,” she said, reaching up to tug at one of her pigtails. It was a nervous habit she had possessed for as long as Tikki had known her. Marinette turned and took off down the hall, disappearing within seconds, so she didn’t hear Tikki’s murmured, ‘good luck’. But Tikki knew that she also didn’t need luck. That boy was crazy about Marinette. And she might not know it yet, but a best friend and Fairy Godmother always knew. Marinette was just as crazy about him.

  
  
  


Luka Couffaine smiled contentedly as he plucked idly at the strings of the Lyre sitting in his lap. He was supposed to be patrolling the grounds right now. With the arrival of King Gabriel Agreste and his son, the _highly esteemed_ Prince Adrien Agreste, security around the palace had practically tripled. He was technically not a Palace Guard, but considering his charge was currently with her parents and the Agrestes’ along with their plethora of guards, he had been told to patrol the grounds until someone sent for him to return to the Princess’ side. He really ought to be doing his job. Sir Roger Raincomprix, head of Palace Security, would have a fit if he caught Luka slacking off. But it was such a beautiful day. Despite the early winter chill, the sun shone in a crystal blue sky, only a few fluffy white clouds interrupting the expanse of blue. The trees were mostly barren of leaves, and the grass was starting to lose its luster as the cold crept in, but the day was bright and beautiful and he fully intended on enticing Marinette to go on a ride before the sun set. He would bet the forest was even more beautiful and awe-inspiring than the field he was currently looking out upon.

Returning his focus to the Lyre in his hands, he allowed the tune he was weaving to shift from jaunty and jovial to something softer, gentler, and filled with the sweetest of yearning as thoughts of his raven-haired charge danced through his mind. Almost as if his thoughts had summoned her, there was a quiet knock on the door and Luka’s fingers slowed and then stopped on the chords as Marinette poked her head through the door with a nervous smile. Sitting up in the armchair he had draped himself across in front of the giant picture window, Luka glanced past her and then frowned disapprovingly.

“You should have sent for me. It’s dangerous for you to be walking around all alone,” he scolded, unfolding his long limbs from the chair and rising to his feet. Marinette came fully into the room with a roll of her eyes and a grimace, but the way she fiddled with the hem of her navy blue dress told him she was anxious and trying to hide it.

“Luka, the throne room is literally fifty feet away. I am not going to get kidnapped, mained, or tortured in the span of two hallways,” she scoffed, shaking her head and making her pigtails bounce with the movement. He had always liked her pigtails. They were adorable and suited her well. Still, he much preferred the rare occasion when she let her hair down. It wasn’t something she did very often and to his knowledge, there were only a handful of people outside her parents and Tikki who had seen her with her hair not in some sort of ponytail holder. He was one of those few people and his fingers itched with the urge to tug the ponytail holders out and run his fingers through her thick midnight tresses. He had a feeling her hair was even softer and silkier than it appeared.

“You don’t know that. Literally _anything_ could happen, Marinette. It’s my job to protect you. It’s _your_ job to let me do _my_ job,” he enunciated clearly, narrowing his blue gaze on her as he moved closer. Marinette’s breath hitched, her eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and nostrils flaring as he came to stand toe to toe with her. She was more nervous than he had previously thought and that was… unusual. Marinette was an antsy individual in general, but more often than not _he_ wasn’t the one causing her discomfort. He didn’t like that he seemed to be the one causing it now and he forced himself to take a step back before he pushed her boundaries accidentally by reaching out and touching her the way his fingers itched to do. They typically had a fairly casual relationship. Luka was older than Marinette. Five years older, to be precise. He had watched her grow up from the time he was a little kid, as his mother had worked as a Palace Guard before running off and leaving him and his sister behind. 

He had been a friend, confidante, older brother, and shoulder to cry on as she had grown up and he had been fighting his feelings for her for the better part of two years because not only was she much younger than he was, she was also hopelessly in love with someone else. And he respected that. It hurt. But he respected it nonetheless. Besides, she was a Princess. And he was a nameless, penniless nobody. He was far beneath her station and nowhere near worthy enough to stand at her side. So instead he stood behind her, and occasionally in front of her, as her Personal Guard. A job he took far more seriously than his cavalier personality suggested.

“Your Highness. Forgive my forwardness. If I have offended you in any way, you have my deepest and sincerest apologies.” The stiff, formal words felt like acid on his tongue. He usually only called Marinette ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Princess’ in jest, because she wasn’t a fan of either title. Saying it now felt wrong and unnatural and apparently Marinette felt the same because her head jerked up and her eyes widened in confusion.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Luka! Why would you think you had?” She stepped forward, closing the gap between them and her fingers are cool to the touch when they encircled his wrist. He looks down into her wide sapphire eyes that are staring earnestly into his soul and feels himself fall just a little more in love with her. He pulls one hand from her grasp, going slowly to give her every opportunity to pull away. But when his fingers graze her cheek, Marinette only closes her eyes and leans into his touch.

“You seem so nervous. I was afraid I had offended you somehow,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. The girl’s eyes pop open and her cheeks flush as she pulls slightly away and drops her eyes to the ground.

“My nervousness is my own fault. I did something. Something stupid that affects the both of us, and I’m not certain how you will take it,” she admits to him quietly, reaching up to tug at a lock of hair that has escaped her ponytails and fallen haphazardly into her face. He gives into the urge then, gently taking the lock of hair and extracting it from the death grip she has on the poor strands, before tucking it securely behind one ear.

“You can tell me, whatever it is. You know I can never stay mad at you for long,” he points out, earning a rueful smile from the young woman before him. Sliding his fingers from the shell of her ear, along her jaw and under her chin, he tips her face up until she is forced to meet his gaze. “I won’t be mad, _ma melodie._ I promise.”

“It… well it’s more of a _question_ ,” she hedged, shifting nervously and briefly squeezing her eyes shut before opening them and meeting his gaze once more. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“You know I’ll help you in any way that I can, Mari,” Luka’s voice rang with conviction at his words. And he meant them, with every fiber of his being. He would do anything for Marinette. That still didn’t keep him from being caught completely off guard by the next words that came out of her mouth.

“I need you to marry me.”


	2. Chapter 2

The silence between them seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Luka was staring at Marinette slack jawed and she was pretty sure he wasn’t even breathing. Taking a step back, she twisted her fingers together anxiously as she awaited some sort of reaction from him. She knew this was sudden, and perhaps a bit unorthodox. But they were close. Closer than close. She cared about Luka and she knew that he cared for her. Maybe, possibly even loved her. There had been that one moment, about a little over a year ago on her eighteenth birthday, when he had kind of sort of implied that he  _ loved _ her. He hadn’t said those exact words, but they were certainly insinuated. He hadn’t brought it up again afterward, though, and things between them had simply continued on the way they had always been so she hadn’t thought anything of it. Or at least tried not to. There were times when his words would pop into her head and she would wonder what might have been if she hadn’t been so crazy in love with Adrien Agreste. But she  _ had _ been in love with him. Or  _ was _ in love with him? She wasn’t one hundred percent sure at this point. It was all just sort of muddled and fuzzy and Luka still wasn’t breathing.

Stepping forward hesitantly, she reached out and gently grazed her fingers against his jaw, bluebell gaze searching his. “Luka? Luka, seriously forget I said anything. It was stupid.  _ I _ am stupid. I’ll go back and tell my parents the truth and I’ll find some other way to get out of marrying Adrien and-” She stopped when Luka’s hand lifted suddenly, long fingers closing gently but firmly around her wrist.

“You did what?” His stormy blue gaze was now hyper focused and searching her own and she cast her mind back over what she had said to try and figure out which part he was referring to. Luka saved her the trouble by clarifying his question. “You lied to get out of marrying Adrien?”

“Y-yes?” She stammered, fingers twitching in his hold with the urge to tug at one of her pigtails. His fingers only tightened.

“Adrien as in Adrien Agreste? Adrien as in  _ Prince McDreamy _ ?  _ That _ Adrien?” He pressed, eyes narrowing intently. Marinette squawked indignantly and tugged out of his grasp. He released her without a fight but his stormy gaze still held her pinned to the spot.

“I called him that  _ one time _ , Couffaine. And we agreed never to speak of it again,” she hissed, cheeks flaming with her embarrassment. Luka’s lips twitched up at the corners, amusement making the storm clouds in his eyes dissipate until only clear blue skies remained. Still, he wouldn’t be deterred from getting his questions answered.

“Adrien as in the guy you’ve been in love with for almost seven years?  _ That _ Adrien?” He pressed, gaze infinitely softer now. So soft that she felt she could melt into them at any moment. That gaze was doing things to her. Warm fuzzy things that she had never experienced before, even in the rare moments when she had thought, hoped, that Adrien might love her back even just a little bit. This was so much more, though. Infinitely more. Marinette swallowed and her palms tingled and dampened as she considered where to go from here. She should apologize and leave. Asking Luka to marry her when she wasn’t in love with him, especially knowing that he potentially had more-than-friend feelings for her, wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. Not to her, and especially not to him. But she found that she didn’t want to take the words back. Not because she didn’t want to have to admit to her parents that she had lied and come up with some other reason that she couldn’t marry Adrien. But because she maybe actually wanted Luka to say yes for her own selfish reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with her parents, or King Gabriel, or Adrien Agreste and everything to do with the man standing before her.

“That’s the one,” she finally whispered, the words seeming to hang in the air between them.

“Why would you do that? I thought it was your dream to marry Adrien,” Luka pointed out, expression darkening ever so slightly.

“I thought it was. Now, I’m not so sure. And even if it was still my dream, I wouldn’t want it to happen like this. I want someone who loves me back, the way that I love them,” she said, dropping her gaze to the deep violet blue of the carpet beneath their feet. The blue room, named for its pale blue walls, dark blueish purple carpet, and the blue accents dotting the rooms furnishings, was one of her favorite sitting rooms. That might have something to do with the fact that when he was younger, she almost always found Luka sitting here alone, his small frame dwarfed by the giant wingback armchair as he stared out the big picture window. He had been waiting, he had once told her after the millionth time she had asked, for his mother to come back. He had watched her walk across the field from this very room with her old broodmare, Liberty, in tow to disappear into the forest beyond and he was hoping he would be there, watching and waiting, the day that she returned.

Now, he was so much taller and the chair didn’t look nearly as ginormous when he sat in it. But this room still held so many memories. Memories of him. Of her. Of  _ them _ . Them together, huddled under a big fuzzy blanket with one of Marinette’s many storybooks laid open across their laps as Luka taught her to read. Them, snuggled up together with cups of hot chocolate after her nannies had practically forced them to come inside from playing in the snow for so long that their teeth were chattering and their extremities had been tinged blue from the bite of the cold. Her, curled up in his lap after she had sought him out after a nightmare and they fell asleep together on that same chair. Them, feeding off each other’s creative energy as he had practiced his Lyre and she had practiced piano, before ultimately deciding she didn’t have a musical bone in her body and deciding to take up fashion instead. Something she was exceedingly good at. Her, curled up in his lap and sobbing the first time Adrien had offhandedly remarked what an amazing  _ friend _ she was, thus breaking her poor twelve year old heart. Them, on the hundreds upon thousands of times afterwards that Adrien had hurt her time and again without knowing, and Luka had held her in his arms and let her cry. 

Most importantly them, the last time Adrien Agreste had unwittingly made her cry. The day he had admitted to her in confidence that he was in love with Kagami, and that he planned on marrying her one day regardless of what his father said. That had been a little over a year ago and she had run sobbing to Luka’s arms, throwing herself into his lap the way she had done countless times before. And he had held her, the way Luka always held her. Softly, tenderly, like she was the most precious being on the face of the planet. And then he had done something she hadn’t expected. He had pulled back, taken her face in his hands, kissed her tears away from first one eye, and then the next, and then spoke words that even a year and a half later, still resonated deeply within her.

_ You’re an extraordinary girl, Marinette. Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You’re the song I’ve been hearing since the moment I met you. _

It wasn’t technically an ‘I love you’. But his words were just as impactful if not more so than if he had simply told her he loved her. Luka ducked down, trying to catch her gaze and she reluctantly lifted them to meet his gaze. Her throat felt clogged with emotion and her eyes burned with unshed tears but the last thing she wanted to do was start crying. Not right now. 

“You deserve nothing less, Marinette. Adrien doesn’t deserve you. He has  _ never _ deserved you,” Luka’s tone, while gentle, was full of conviction and a bittersweet laugh erupted from her chest as the first tear trailed down one flushed cheek.

“I wish you had told me that seven years ago,” she chuckled ruefully as the tears came faster, turning from a trickle to a stream. “Or literally any of the other times I’ve wasted tears on him.”

“You weren’t ready to hear it before now,” Luka cupped her face in his hands and used his thumbs to brush away her tears. Her vision was blurred, but she can still make out the affectionate smile on his lips before he leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. Closing her eyes, she leans into his touch as that warm, fuzzy feeling intensifies and she takes a moment to just enjoy this feeling of contentedness. She claimed to love Adrien for years, and yet Adrien had never inspired these feelings of safety and comfort in her the way Luka could. With him, she felt cherished and important. He made her feel like a real person, not just some pretty princess to be gawked at and spoken over.

“I’m ready now,” she whispered, and it felt like a heavy weight had lifted off her chest. Like she had been slowly drowning and finally let go of the bag of rocks that had been dragging her down. She felt  _ free _ for the first time in seven years.

“I believe you,” Luka murmured, thumb hooking under her jaw and gently coaxing her face up.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I’m  _ in _ love with you either,” she admitted, because Luka was the one person she was incapable of lying too and besides, he deserved to know the truth. She isn’t sure what she was expecting, but the rusty chuckle that escaped him wasn’t it.

“Maybe not yet. But I believe you, deep down inside. And I’m willing to be patient, Marinette. I don’t need an ‘I love you’ right now. Truthfully I’d settle for an ‘I like you more than a friend’,” he said with a cheeky grin. Marinette laughed, cheeks stretching so wide they hurt, but she couldn’t bring herself to care one bit.

“I do really really like you, Luka. Definitely as more than a friend,” she promised. Luka’s gaze softened from humor to adoration at her words and the look he was giving her made her insides glow with happiness.

“That’s enough for now.  _ You _ are more than enough, Marinette. I would settle for anything you gave me, especially if it means I would get to stand by your side,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers and Marinette closed her eyes as pure happiness buzzed through every one of her nerve endings. The urge to take back her earlier words, to scream from the rooftops that she was irrevocably, undeniably, hopelessly in love with him nearly overwhelmed her. But Marinette bit her tongue. For now this, this was enough. She had a feeling that she would say the words themselves in the very near future but for now, this was enough. He was enough. More than enough, he was everything she had ever wanted and so much more. With Adrien, she would be settling. With Luka? She would be gaining so much more.

They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, his hands cupping her cheeks and hers having somehow found themselves entangled in his shirtfront, for the longest time before Luka pulled back only enough that he could look her in the eye. “If the offer still stands, I would love nothing more that to marry you,  _ ma petit melodie _ ,” he said quietly, and the joy Marinette felt was a thousand times stronger than she had ever felt when gushing about her fantasy life with Adrien. But that was the thing about fantasies. In the end, they were often little more than pipe dreams but this? Her and Luka? Them? That was 1000% real and she couldn’t  _ wait _ to fall head over heels with the man standing before her.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! Also, I take Lukanette requests so drop a request below and you might just get a fic out of it


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